A Mission Oriented
by skycloud86
Summary: It's 2028, and a mysterious figure is causing many problems.


**9.35pm, Friday November 3rd, 2028 – outside a bar in Los Angeles**

Slamming the door of his SUV, John surveyed the area around the bar. For a Friday night in that part of LA, the area was quiet, which worked well for John. Running his hand through the glossy brown hair on his head, he noticed someone walk into the bar, and he had found his target. Strolling casually inside, he followed the man to the bar and sat down next to him. Sneaking a sideways glance at the man, John could tell that the man was slightly older than him and was maybe a bit too much on the big side for him, but he decided that the man was good enough. As the stranger noticed him looking, John decided to initiate a conversation.

"You come here often?," John asked. He knew it was clichéd, but it was simple. The other man nodded slightly, before extending his hand. As John shook hands with him, he introduced himself.

"Yeah. Name's Frank. You looking for something tonight?," Frank asked, before taking a swig of his beer. Newly single but lacking confidence, Frank was surprised to find someone taking an interest in him so soon.

"I'm John, and course I am, everyone who comes to this bar is," John replied.

"Then what do you say we finish up here and get what we came for?," Frank suggested, and John knew that he was close. The guy had caught his eye instantly, and now he was offering himself to John.

**9.55pm – John's house**

John could tell that Frank was getting some sort of confidence boost from the attention, and he had no problem with it. After all, he was close to getting what he wanted, what he needed, and anything that Frank could do to quicken that sweet moment was very much welcomed by John. A natural actor, he kissed Frank passionately, knowing exactly what he wanted. Pushing Frank onto the bed, he followed shortly afterwards and straddled him, a smirk on his face.

"You into anything a bit kinky?," John asked, as he took out a pair of handcuffs from under the pillow. Nodding his approval, Frank allowed John to tightly restrain his hands to the metal bedposts. Climbing off of the other man, John knew that he now had full control of the situation – not that he hadn't been already – and he watched Frank's eyes as he opened a drawer of the cupboard besides the bed. He wanted to see Frank's reaction as he pulled out his favourite toy. As he did, Frank's eyes widened and he began to frantically try and release himself.

"What the hell is this? Someone, help! Help!," Frank yelled, but John simply stroked Frank's cheek with the carving knife he had just taken out of the drawer.

"Ssh Frank, noone can hear you. This will end quickly," John reassured him, before placing the knife at one end of Frank's throat then dragging the knife across the flesh, slashing the neck and allowing blood to flow out of Frank and onto the bed. Placing the knife onto the pillow close to Frank's head, he returned to his drawer, before taking out a razor.

"You're a very lucky man, Frank. Through me you will become immortal," John whispered as Frank gurgled his last few breaths. Acting quickly so that Frank would know what he was doing before he died, John began to shave off Frank's blond hair, before placing it into a plastic bag. Finishing the task, he checked that Frank was dead, before removing the handcuffs.

**8.45am, Saturday, November 4th - Los Angeles coast**

Detective Dennis Collins sighed as he saw the bloodied and naked body that had been callously dumped in the sand dunes of the Californian coast. This body, this poor unidentified cadaver, was the third and now Collins knew that he was dealing with a serial killer. If he remembered the MO correctly, this was a gay man in his thirties or fourties with blond hair – which was always shaven off – found on the beach with his throat slashed. There were few clues to go on, but Collins believed that the killer was probably not sexually interested in men, but found it easy to entice them back to his home or a hiding place. The hair was probably taken as a trophy, which would explain why the men were always shaven. Blond himself, and with stormy grey eyes, Collins was in his late fourties and had investigated many, many murders, but these killings were something new. Sure, he had dealt with serial killers before – the area almost never went without at least one active serial killer – but he could tell that there was more to the case than some madman luring gay men to their deaths before taking their hair.

**11.30am - Alex Myers' house, Los Angeles**

Leafing through the mail as he tried to wake up, Alex was not exactly amazed at the predictable pile of bills that he held in his hands. Luckily, he had few financial strains, and bills were paid off quite quickly, but they never seemed to stop. Groaning to himself as he realised that he was turning into a middle-aged man – he was, after all, almost fifty two – and decided to leave the bills for later. Turning on the television, he watched as a news report about the third body was found, and wondered what drove some people to kill over and over again. He knew little about serial killers and what he did know was mostly gleaned from the media rather than any books on the subject, but Alex did know a lot about violence and death, and didn't envy the cops who had to investigate the murders. Hearing his cell phone ring, he grabbed it and saw the caller ID indicated that his nephew Joseph was calling.

"Hello, Joseph," Alex spoke as he answered the phone. Joseph, now in his mid twenties, was the son of Nina and an unknown father – Alex had tried to convince Joseph to get a DNA test done, but Joseph had always refused out of fear that he would only discover another dead terrorist.

"Alex, I have some news to tell you. CTU have accepted me as a trainee agent, and I start on Monday," Joseph replied. Although he knew of the many ordeals that Alex and others had been through at CTU, and of his mother's death there, he also knew that it could be his way of repairing the damage that his mother had done, even in a small way.

"That's great Joseph, I'm happy to hear it," Alex spoke, although deep down he didn't like the idea of Joseph being in harms way, but he didn't want to stop Joseph from making his own decisions.

"I know you've been worried about me joining CTU, but you don't need to be," Joseph said, and he could only hope that the first few months of working at CTU would go smoothly. Alex was still an active CTU agent, and would be there as well, although as Alex was mostly busy with the job of being Chief of Staff of CTULA, he wouldn't be out in the field like Joseph planned to be one day.

"I'm sure that you'll be a great agent, Joseph, but my worries are mostly due to my experiences and those of people like Jack. Hopefully things will turn out better for you over the years," Alex responded.

**1.45pm - John's house, Los Angeles**

John gazed with satisfaction at the three bags of blond hair that he had placed on a shelf. One had more silvery blonde, one was more strawberry blond, whilst the other was a very yellow blond that John found highly attractive. Pleased with his work so far, John had no intention of stopping any time soon. In fact, he planned to take another victim as soon as possible, although he knew that he had to be careful now that the cops knew what they were dealing with. John had read enough psychology books to know exactly what he was – a mission oriented serial killer. Sure, he wasn't exactly targeting a coherent group – his only real criteria was that they had blond locks for him to take as a trophy – but he knew that he was one of them – he was a Ted Kaczynski or Charles Manson, and he knew that he was using his victims as mere props, substitutes for the one victim he would love to find, kill and take the hair of as a trophy, and that man's name was Jack Bauer.


End file.
